t "It turns out I was having an affair and I didn't even know it." . bladder, kidneys, lungs, and heart. This song would not prevent my father from drinking a bottle of vodka as soon as he could sit up in bed. This song would not defeat death. No, I thought, this song is temporary, but right now temporary is good enough. And it was a good song. Our voices filled the re- covery hallway. The sick and the healthy stopped to listen. The nurses, even the remote black one, uncon- sciously took a few steps toward us. She sighed and smiled. I smiled back. I knew what she was thinking. Some- times, even after all these years, she could still be surprised by her work. She still marvelled at the infinite and ridiculous faith of other people. DOCTOR'S OFFICE I took my kids with me to my doctor, a handsome man-a reservist-who'd served in both Iraq wars. I told him that I couldn't hear because of my aller- gies. He said he would likely have to clear wax and mucus out of my ear, but when he scoped inside he discovered nothing. "N ope, it's all dry in there," he said. He led my sons and me to the audi- ologist in the other half of the building. I was scared, but I wanted my children to remain calm, so I tried to stay mea- 68 THE NEW YORKER, AUGUST 10 & 17, 2009 . sured. More than anything, I wanted my wife to materialize. During the hearing test, I heard only thirty per cent of the clicks, bells, and words-I apparently had nerve- and bone-conductive deafness. My inner ear thumped and thumped. How many cockroaches were in my head? My doctor said, 'We need an MRI of your ear and brain, and maybe we'll find out what's going on." "Maybe"? That word terrified me. What the fuck was wrong with my fucking head? Had my hydrocephalus come back? Had my levees burst? Was I going to flood? HYDROCEPHALUS Merriam-Webster's dictionary de- fines "hydrocephalus" as "an abnormal increase in the amount of cerebrospinal fluid within the cranial cavity that is ac- companied by expansion of the cerebral ventricles, enlargement of the skull and especially the forehead, and atrophy of the brain." I define "hydrocephalus" as "the obese, imperialistic water demon that nearly killed me when I was a baby." In order to save my life, and stop the water demon, I had brain surgery in 1967, when I was six months old. I was supposed to die. Obviously, I didn't. I was supposed to be severely mentally disabled. I have only minor to moder- ate brain damage. I was supposed to have epileptic seizures. Those I did have, until I was seven years old. I was on phenobarbital, a major-league anti- seizure medication, for six years. The side effects of phenobarbital- all of which I suffered to some degree or another as a child-are sleepwalking, agitation, confusion, depression, night- mares, hallucinations, insomnia, apnea, vomiting, constipation, dermatitis, fe- ver, liver and bladder dysfunction, and psychiatric disturbance. How do you like them cockroaches? Now, as an adult, thirty-three years removed from phenobarbital, I still suf- fer-to some degree or another-from sleepwalking, agitation, confusion, de- pression, nightmares, hallucinations, in- somnia, bladder dysfunction, apnea, and dermatitis. Is there such a disease as post-phe- nobarbital traumatic stress disorder? Most hydrocephalics are shunted. A shunt is essentially brain plumbing that drains away excess cerebrospinal fluid. The shunts often fuck up and stop work- ing. I know hydrocephalics who've had a hundred or more shunt revisions and re- pairs. That's more than a hundred brain surgeries. There are ten fingers on any surgeon's hands. There are two or three surgeons involved in any particular brain operation. That means that some hydro- cephalics have had their brains fondled by three thousand fingers. I'm lucky. I was shunted only tempo- rarily. And I hadn't suffered any hydro- cephalic symptoms since I was seven years old. Until July, 2008, when, at the age of forty-one, I went deaf in my right ear. CONVERSATION Sitting in my car in the hospital parking garage, I called my brother-in-law, who was babysitting my sons. "Hey, it's me. I just got done with the MRI on my head." My brother-in-law said something unintelligible. I realized that I was hold- ing my cell to my bad ear, and I switched it to the good ear. "The MRI dude didn't look happy," I said.